Knife's Edge
by Xenopsyche
Summary: What if the events of 'The Ultimate Enemy' placed Danny's sanity on a knife-edge? And what if, a couple of months later, some close calls pushed him slightly too far? How might he react? Rated T for self-destructive/suicidal themes. Formerly titled 'Pre-emptive Strike', now updated and refined.
1. Inevitability

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Danny Phantom' or any of the characters, concepts etc. Those are owned by Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon, I believe. I make no claim to anything in this story, it is a perspective with hypothetical scenarios added in.

**[AN: Welcome all to Knife's Edge, formerly titled 'Pre-emptive Strike'.**

**This is my updated and edited version of that story, and while it's not hugely different, it flows a bit better and the giant author's notes should be largely gone.**

**This is the first in a series of Danny Phantom fics that all follow on from this alteration to the Timeline, so if you enjoy this one then please check them out, a guide can be found on my profile. the only point you may need to know is that I imagine the characters to be about 2 years older than in the show, but that's a personal choice and can largely be ignored. /AN]**

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><p><span><strong>Knife's Edge<strong>

**Ch1: Inevitability**

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><p>"<em>You don't get it do you? <em>I_'__m still here, I still exist, which means _you_still turn into _me_!"_

Those words had haunted Danny's sleeps for weeks after his fateful encounter with 'Dan', his alternate future self. The destruction that that twisted creature had wrought and the complete lack of empathy, sympathy, even _humanity_ he had shown had been, in a word, horrific. And the power…

That was the most disturbing, terrifying part, because that power was _inside_ Danny; the Ghostly Wail had proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But he knew why he had turned into Dan in that alternate timeline. The loss of those few individuals he cared deeply about had so badly damaged his alternate self that he had purged his humanity just to make the pain go away; so he resolved to never let that happen.

At first he had flat-out refused to let Sam, Tucker or Jazz help with Ghost fighting in any way, but that plan didn't last long (_no one _can stand in the way of a determined Sam Manson) so he focused on ensuring their safety during a fight by whatever means he could think of.

And it worked; as the weeks and months went by, the threat of Danny repeating his fall into Dark Dan diminished in his mind until it was little more than a peripheral concern, always at the back of his mind but no longer the all-consuming fear it was at first.

Until a week ago.

Two things happened in that week that reawakened that specific fear and brought it back stronger than ever.

The first was an injury Sam sustained during a routine fight with Skulker. A small piece of shrapnel from one of his many missiles had nicked her inner thigh as she tried to throw herself behind cover. The wound itself was superficial, a band-aid was more than sufficient for it, but both Danny and Sam knew that it had come dangerously close to slicing into her Femoral Artery; if it had of hit a centimetre to the right and at a slightly higher velocity than it did, Sam might have bled out before Danny could finish fighting Skulker, let alone get her to a hospital.

Of course she just brushed away his concerns with an irritated glare and proceeded to shake the Thermos like a maraca all the way back to FentonWorks. But that incident rattled him badly, to think that Sam of all people had been that close to death… he couldn't bear to think of losing her.

His quite-a-bit-more-than-a-crush on his best friend was the worst kept secret in Amity Park, which was good because it distracted everyone from his rather more successfully kept one (you know, the whole 'Half-Ghost' Town Hero/Public Enemy #1 thing), but it meant that losing her would be a crushing blow him; he didn't even want to contemplate what he would do if something that terrible happened; although from what he saw of the possible future that Dan had created, he had a pretty good idea.

His surprise and fear didn't stem so much from the fact that she was in danger (it was far from the first time she had been in mortal peril; the Freakshow incident, for example). It was the fact that all it would take was a (un?)lucky shot for a tiny piece of otherwise harmless shrapnel to critically injure her or one of his other friends or family members. Ecto-blasts, sharp claws, fire-breathing ghost dragons, those were all obvious threats that Danny could see and respond to before any harm befell his friends, but there was simply no way he could protect them from every piece of shrapnel or stray discharge of energy during the mayhem of a fight; and that fact was a painful and terrifying wake-up call for him.

The second incident seemed determined to ram home his sudden realisation of human frailty.

Tucker's dad had been driving home one day in the rain when the pickup truck in front of him stopped suddenly. Mr Foley tried to brake but the tires aquaplaned and he ended up skidding into the back of the vehicle. No one was injured in the minor accident, but a 4m piece of steel rebar had come loose in the impact and sailed straight through the Foley's car's front windscreen, effectively impaling the passenger seat. If anyone had been in that seat, the results would not have been pretty.

Once again, it was a disturbing reminder to Danny that he couldn't protect all of the people he loved all of the time and that there was danger in common, everyday activities; not just fighting ghosts.

It was then that Danny realised just how easy it was for everyone he cared about to be taken away from him despite his best efforts.

The Nightmares started again that night.

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><p>Sam was getting (more) concerned about Danny. He had been even more tired than usual the last few days and he was sporting more and more injuries, though he claimed there weren't any more ghosts than usual to deal with. The worst part was, it all seemed to start after that stupid piece of shrapnel hit her.<p>

Of course she knew how close that small shard of painfully hot and pointy metal had come to puncturing her femoral artery but she had _really_ hoped that Danny hadn't realised it; his tendency to obsess over her safety could verge on smothering at times, not that she didn't enjoy the attention from her best friend/love of her admittedly short life.

But the hovering, paranoid way he was acting afterwards made her think that he most certainly had noticed (of _course_ he wouldn't be clueless about something like the position of major blood vessels in the human body! Just about his best friend desperately crushing on him!).

She just marked it down as a bad week for him (he had those a lot), or at least she did until she helped him out with another of his fights with Skulker.

He wasn't fighting like the Danny she knew; gone were the witty remarks and biting retorts that normally featured as a sound track to his more routine fights, and Skulker's usual array of insults and challenges were met with stony silence. The nonchalance he normally exuded in these fights was also gone, replaced with dull, unfeeling apathy. He was being careless too, leaving himself open to attacks, opportunities that Skulker gladly took, but Danny just took the hits and continued fighting, pummelling the exo-suited ghost to a far greater extent than usual.

By the end of it he was ragged and bloody, with a particularly deep and painful-looking gash that ran across his chest already leaking a worrying amount of his ectoplasm-coated blood. And when the fight was over the bags under his eyes had grown darker than she had thought humanly possible; saying he looked listless wouldn't even begin to cover it.

Sam desperately wanted to ask what was wrong but he just picked up the Thermos and flew back to his home to deposit the rather beaten ghost back in the Ghost Zone, leaving Sam alone with her thoughts and her fear for her best friend's health.

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><p>Danny was not in a good way at the moment.<p>

He was distracted by the sudden realisation of just how fragile the lives of his friends were and how devastating their loss would be to him (and by extension, the world).

This brought on the Nightmares; reliving the explosion of the Nasty Burger, visions of the wasteland future Dan, and, by extension, himself, had created; and worst of all, seeing himself in Dan's place, revelling in the destruction he could create with the power locked inside him. He would wake up from those episodes sweating profusely and invariably in his Phantom form. After a couple of nights of this he just gave up on sleep, patrolling the streets all night.

This complete lack of sleep meant that he was sustaining more and more injuries after every fight and his body just wasn't healing them as quickly as it normally did, as most of his spare energy was being diverted to keeping his cells functioning without a proper rest period. As a result, the various wounds were starting to compound rapidly. This only distracted him more and made him long for sleep, which of course only exacerbated the problem. It was a truly vicious cycle.

That last fight with Skulker had taken a lot out of him and he really wasn't sure how much he had left to give. He wasn't even feeling most of his injuries anymore; they had long since faded into background noise along with his body's cries for rest.

What he needed was a way to deal with Dan, once and for all, a way to ensure _He_ could never happen, that the future he had seen could never happen. And after a couple of days thinking over this problem and battling past his fatigue, he found a solution.

A solution formed from a cold, disconnected logic that scared him almost as much as Dan did.

"_You don't get it do you? _I_'__m still here, I still exist, which means _you_still turn into _me_!"_

All of this time he had been so focused on stopping Dan that he hadn't noticed the most effective solution to the problem. He had been so desperate to separate himself from Dan that he had begun to view him as a separate entity entirely, all of his concern being on stopping _Dan_, the symptom, rather than dealing with the cause.

Dan was right, _Danny_ turned in to _Dan_. As such, there was only one way to truly stop Dan from ever existing, one way to truly protect the world and everyone he cared about. Because the truth of the matter was that he wasn't fighting Dan, he was fighting himself, an internal struggle that he couldn't be certain he would prevail in.

In hindsight, perhaps he had already subconsciously come to that conclusion; it would certainly explain why he was all but allowing the ghosts he fought to attack him with impunity.

Only one course of action remained, the same course of action the Observants had originally charged Clockwork with; to permanently remove the threat of Dan Phantom, Danny Fenton/Phantom had to die.

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><p>It didn't take Sam long to come to a conclusion after Danny left.<p>

Someone needed to talk to him, soon. This was more than an off week for him; Sam couldn't place exactly why but she knew something was terribly wrong with him and that this time it wasn't just his usual lack of sleep.

Normally psych stuff would be Jazz's job, but since she was snowed under with college assignments, Sam knew that ensuring Danny's continued mental wellbeing fell to her. As such, she stood up from the spot on the grass where she had sat in contemplation for the past half-an-hour, dusted herself off, and began the short walk to his house.

He would talk to her, one way or the other.


	2. Acceptance

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Danny Phantom' or any of the characters, concepts etc. Those are owned by Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon, I believe. I make no claim to anything in this story, it is a perspective with hypothetical scenarios added in.

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><p><span><strong>Knife's Edge<strong>

**Ch2: Acceptance**

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><p>Sam didn't even have to knock before Maddie called out to tell her that Danny was up in his room. Her combat boots clomped loudly as she bounded up the stairs two at a time, steeling herself to make the usually recalcitrant halfa talk to her about what was going on in his head, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight she found as she entered his room.<p>

He was sitting hunched over on the side of his bed, staring blankly at a reflection of himself in a nearby mirror, his body a horrifying patchwork of bruises, gashes, burns and infected tissue. Most notably, that gash across his chest that she had noticed earlier had was now glaringly obvious and still leaking crimson blood over the congealed mass of ragged flesh that lined the cut. It was a shallow injury, not even reaching the bone of the sternum, but the pain from it must have been overwhelming.

Normally his few significant scars and fresh wounds were artfully concealed beneath long, baggy items of clothing, but sitting on his bed, shirt off and with no evidence of even the most rudimentary attempt at first aid anywhere on his mutilated body, the true degree of his concealment was revealed to her.

Sam couldn't believe her eyes; even after his fight with Pariah Dark he hadn't looked this bad. Skulker had been the most powerful ghost he had had to fight this week and normally Danny could beat him with little more than a couple of scratches and an occasional bruise for his trouble (ever since his fight with Dan and subsequent discovery of the Ghostly Wail, his strength had grown exponentially; to the point where even Vlad seemed to be much more cautious when engaging the younger halfa).

"Oh my God! Danny…what...?" Sam choked out, hand over her mouth in shock as the full severity of her crush/best friend's situation sunk in.

As if only just noticing her presence, Danny's head shot up to meet her gaze before hastily standing up.

"Can't talk, have to go on patrol. I'll see you at school tomorrow," he said over his shoulder as he turned towards the far wall and futilely attempted to trigger his transformation, "…maybe."

He added the last part under his breath but Sam still heard, and there was no way she was letting him go _anywhere_ in his current shape.

"You aren't in any condition to be _walking_, let alone fighting ghosts! What are you thinking?!" She hissed at the clearly injured teen.

"I have to do this Sam, the Town needs me to protect it," he responded through gritted teeth as he tried to summon the energy and focus to trigger his transformation.

"Look at yourself Danny! You're so badly hurt you can't even control your ghost form. You can't protect the town if you're dead!" Sam nearly shouted, almost forgetting about the need to keep her voice down due to his parent's proximity.

Danny froze in place, before collapsing in on himself with a sigh, unwilling or unable to meet her pleading gaze.

"That's the _only_ way I can protect it..." he said quietly as he stared blankly out the window, not even bothering to try and transform anymore.

That stopped Sam cold. She had thought this was just another case of Danny pushing himself too hard because of his damn Hero Complex again, but this was something else all together more serious.

She knew Danny had to deal with more than any person should, what with school, bullying, defending the town from ghost attacks, avoiding various human ghost hunters, his parent included, and balancing the two separate lives he led, but he had always been so irrepressible and so ready to give everything he could that the concept of him falling into self-loathing and despair had never occurred to her.

Had she really been such a terrible friend to him that she hadn't noticed such a fundamental and significant shift in his behaviour?

"What-What do you mean, Danny?" Was all she managed to choke out as she stood frozen to the spot by the thoughts racing around her head.

"The Observants were right, Clockwork was wrong. The only way to make sure that Dan never happens is for me to die," said a dead, resigned, not-Danny voice, coming from the lips of the dead, resigned, not-Danny standing before her, a sight more strange and terrifying than when he had first stumbled out of the Ghost Portal after his accident.

She just couldn't respond to that. He was seriously saying that he thought it would be best if he were to… to die. And knowing him, he would fight until his own exertion killed him or Skulker finally had a new pelt for his wall.

Danny continued, oblivious to or uncaring of Sam's lack of response.

"I became Dan because I lost everyone I cared about and I thought 'Hey, I just need to protect you guys, and then it'll never happen!', but I didn't realise just how fragile your lives really are, how so many things that happen every day could hurt you, even kill you, and I can't always be there to protect you."

Sam was about to jump in and say that it wasn't his fault, or that he didn't need to protect them, or any one of a half-dozen other clichéd platitudes, but she stopped herself, knowing that none of them were actually true in this situation. Besides, Danny just kept on rambling, getting everything of his burdened, broken chest.

"And just think about what would happen to the number of Ghost attacks if I wasn't here. I thought I was protecting the town, but all I'm doing is making it a target for my enemies; Skulker and Walker would never have a reason to come back here if it weren't for me, Vlad wouldn't have to bother with his crazy schemes any more and most of the others Valerie can take care of by now. Besides, who would actually care if I were to disappear tomorrow? Sure, Dash might miss his favourite punching bag and Mom and Dad might wonder about it for bit, but as soon as they realised Phantom was gone too, they'd completely forget about me; heck, the whole town would probably declare a Public Holiday in celebration! And I'm sure Mr Lancer would be glad he didn't have to keep giving me detention for showing up late to class or grading my half-finished homework, plus your parents would be thrilled learn that their daughter wasn't hanging out with a Fenton anymore. It's a win-win situation for everyone!" Danny continued, false enthusiasm dripping from every word and mixing with the underlying tone of loathing and fear in a way that sent a chill up Sam's spine.

Danny had always had a penchant for sarcasm, but the way he was describing his own self-worth now… once again Sam was struck mute by the overwhelming mix of emotions flooding through her.

Part of her wanted to storm out of the room, to yell and scream at him that _she _cared and that Tucker and Jazz and so many others cared about him and that he had no right to accuse them otherwise. But Danny knew that, and Sam knew that Danny knew that; it was just buried beneath the weight of his own fear, stress and the personal hell that was his life.

So she couldn't hate him, because this wasn't Danny; this was a hollow shell of her best friend.

And she hadn't noticed it until it was almost too late.

So she did the one thing she never thought she would do; she cried.

It wasn't a spectacular display of bawling waterworks like you might see on TV; her eyes watered slightly and a couple of thin, glistening streaks ran down to her chin leaving a faint trail of dark mascara in their wake.

That was it.

But the meaning was huge; Samantha Manson, fiercely independent Gothic aficionado, was crying.

It was a reaction brought on by sheer emotional overload and the need to release it in some way other than righteous fury. It was a response to the pure anguish in the eyes of her oldest and closest friend and the fact that she had been so oblivious to his downwards spiral that she hadn't been there to help him.

"I'm sorry Danny, I am so, so sorry…" she whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly as she said it and eyes still glistening with yet-to-be-shed tears.


	3. Perspective

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Danny Phantom' or any of the characters, concepts etc. Those are owned by Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon, I believe. I make no claim to anything in this story, it is a perspective with hypothetical scenarios added in.

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><p><span><strong>Knife's Edge<strong>

**Ch3: Perspective**

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><p>Danny had always been protective of his loved ones and it was a trait that had only intensified after he became a halfa and finally gained the ability to effectively protect those people.<p>

So when he saw _Sam_, of all people, crying… everything else became a secondary concern.

"What are you talking about Sam? There's nothing for you to be sorry about. You haven't done anything wrong," he asked, confused, while also trying rather ineffectually to comfort her obvious hurt.

"Of course I have, Danny! Look at yourself! Did you even hear a word of what you just said!? I'm supposed to be your best friend, I'm supposed to make sure you feel wanted, that you're needed and loved! I'm supposed to be helping you carry your burdens, but they're crushing you!" Her eyes welled with tears as she barely restrained herself from shouting the words, pleading with him to see reason.

"But they aren't your burdens to carry Sam; they're mine and I have to bear them myself," Danny replied, his own conviction and stubborn determination weaving their way back into his voice.

"But you don't have to do it alone! Tucker and Jazz are here for you, _I'm_ here for you! We'll be whatever you need us to be, wherever you need us to be; just let us help you!"

It was as close as she would ever come to begging, but she sure-as-hell wasn't going to put her own pride before her best friend's life, not if there was _anything_ she could so to help him.

Danny sighed, as though this was a conversation he had had on many previous occasions; which he actually might have, debating his own actions with himself.

"It's not that easy; Dan… I'm the only one who knows him, who knows what he's capable of. I have to be responsible for him, for me."

"And so your solution is to grind yourself into dust and save the ghosts the trouble?" Sam spat, fury and indignation reasserting themselves in her eyes as she glared at the broken hero before her.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe Clockwork was right to save you? That you might be the only one capable of stopping Dan if he ever escaped? What about Vlad? Who would protect your family then? Or what if another ghost like Pariah Dark shows up? You've used your power for so much good so far, what makes you think that that wouldn't continue?"

Danny stayed silent, his defensive resolve cracking as he was unable to meet her blazing eyes.

"Danny, look at me and listen to what I'm about to say," Sam demanded and slowly he raised his head and locked his ice-blue gaze with her own amethyst eyes.

"You are _not_ Dan. You are Danny, _my_ Danny, and there is _no one_ I'd trust more to protect this town, no one I could _ever_ feel safer with. _No one_," she spoke forcefully, each statement punctuated by her taking a step closer towards him until only inches separated them.

Danny was still silent, but there was a spark of life returning to his dull, blue eyes and his body was sitting up just that bit straighter. Seeing this, Sam pressed her advantage… and fervently hoped that Danny would forgive her for what she was about to say.

"But right now you're acting like Dan!"

Danny stiffened immediately and jerked away from the hand she had carefully placed on his shoulder. The silence that permeated the room as Sam tried to work up the courage to continue was absolutely deafening.

"You told me that Dan lost everything and then turned to Vlad, sacrificing his humanity to make the pain of his loss go away. And that's exactly what you're doing now. You're willing to sacrifice everything to stop the pain you feel... and I _don't_ blame you for it," she whispered quietly but emphatically as she finally mustered the courage to keep speaking and knelt before him, knowing that she had to finish her piece, for his sake.

Danny looked up, surprised at the words. He had been expecting condemnation and fear, not compassion. As far as he was concerned, he should be loathed and despised because of what Dan proved could happen, and he just couldn't understand why Sam was trying so hard to convince him otherwise.

"You've stood strong against everything for so long and put up with more than I can bear to watch. You deserve so much more than I can give you, but I will do everything I can make your pain more bearable; just let me!" Sam pleaded, those unshed tears threatening to spill over once more as she desperately tried to make Danny see the truth in her words.

Both of them were dead quiet after Sam finished her impassioned plea, both realising their sudden proximity and electing to ignore it in favour of sorting through the emotional maelstrom of the last ten minutes.

Truly, he had forgotten that there were still people who cared about him; and now Sam was pouring out her soul to remind him of that fact. The only question that remained was if that would be enough.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Danny spoke, his voice shaking with emotion, but strong.

"You've always been there for me, Sam, I- I really don't know what I would have done, without you. Thanks, for reminding me. Thanks for caring about me."

The realisation had hit him like a hammer blow. Of course what he already had was worth fighting for, even if that meant fighting his own demons on a daily basis. It had been enough when he had first got his powers, and it would be enough for the rest of his days, whatever happened in them.

"Always, Danny. Now let me patch you up and you can go back to kicking Skulker's metal ass across town tomorrow," she said with a small, but honest, smile and an attempt at a mischievous smirk. Clearly it worked because Danny snorted in amusement and then grimaced as that set off half the injuries across his torso.

Sam immediately located the well concealed back-pack that functioned as Danny's aid station in the dark corner next to his door and set to work, bandaging, binding and disinfecting his myriad injuries.

It made her physically sick to see him like this but she pressed on because he needed her to be strong and the town needed him to get better; Valerie and the Fenton's were good (well, decent maybe) but they were no Danny Phantom, and let's not even mention the Guys in White. The truth was, he was going to need at least a couple of days to fully heal, even with his ectoplasmicly enhanced healing capabilities; good thing it was a Friday today, it might have been hard to explain why he couldn't go to school otherwise.

Half an hour later, Danny was swathed in bandages, a liberal burst of air freshener had been sprayed to mask the permeating smell of hospital-grade disinfectant and Sam had done all she could for the battered halfa.

"Is there anything else you need, Danny?" Sam asked as she packed away the last of the aid supplies and updated the 'Need to Buy' List that Jazz kept track of.

"Um, I- uh… no," he stammered out before sighing dejectedly, "It's nothing, just… go home and get some rest."

Sam was not amused. She crossed her arms and glared at the nervous teen as he gingerly pulled on a long sleeved shirt to hide the bandages from prying eyes.

"Danny, didn't we just cover this? I want to help and you clearly need it. Whatever it is, just ask."

Danny looked seriously unsure about whatever he was about to ask but also slightly…hopeful? And that piqued Sam's interest even more.

"I… would you stay here, tonight? I just- The Nightmares keep me awake and I thought that, maybe, if you were here that, maybe, I would… sleep… better…" he finished awkwardly, once more unable to meet her gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, before yanking his hand back down as his shoulder twinged in pain.

"Oh… um, what about Tucker? Should I ask him to come over, too?" Sam asked carefully, hoping for a no but expecting a yes.

"No, we don't need to bother him," Danny said as casually as he could, though he said it quite a bit faster and more desperately than he would have liked. He didn't add that he really wanted _just_ Sam to be here tonight, not because he was going to try something or anything like that, but because there was a certain… peace that he always felt when he was with her. And Tucker, though well meaning, could sometimes shatter that peace.

"In that case, then sure, I'd love to," she replied happily, surprised but more than a little excited at the prospect. Then she realised how that might of sounded to him and rushed to cover it up, "Uh, that is if you think that would help, of course… give me five minutes, I'll go out the front and explain to your parents that you aren't feeling well and probably shouldn't be woken up tomorrow and then I'll come around the back."

True to her word, Sam returned by climbing through Danny's window five minutes later.

"What about your parents?" Danny asked as she locked his door to avoid the need to explain a whole set of really awkward and difficult questions should either of his parents walk in unexpectedly to check on him during the night.

"I told them I was sleeping over at Tuck's and then catching a movie during the day. I filled Tucker in as well so he can vouch for me if necessary," Sam said with a grin.

"You did all of that in five minutes?" he asked incredulously as she made her way over to his closet.

"You doubt my excuse-making ability? Do you really think my parents actually let me stay out half as late with you and Tuck as I do for out patrols? Of course I need to give them some other reasons."

Without further ado, she dragged her usual set of mattresses and blankets out from the closet and set them up on the floor next to Danny's bed. The three of them had stashes like this in each of their rooms for when they regularly stayed over at each other's houses. Soon enough, Sam and Danny had fallen into comfortable and familiar idle discussion, chatting about random things like they normally did and distracting themselves from the emotionally draining argument that had preceded it. Still, it didn't take long before Danny's complete lack of rest caught up to him and he quickly fell into a fitful sleep.

Sam herself was drained emotionally and ready for a good night's rest, even though it was barely dinner time. But when she saw Danny moaning and twitching violently in his sleep, a sure sign of the nightmares that sometimes plagued all of them, she knew she had to do something.

So she did.

Carefully, she got up and slid into bed next to the shaking boy, then wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace and drew her damaged best friend close to her. Sure enough, Danny began to still, his thrashing stopped and soon his breathing and heart-rate returned to mostly normal levels as he unconsciously returned the embrace.

Still, Sam held him close, not daring to loosen her grip on him lest he fall back into nightmares once again.

"I'll always be there for you, Danny, whenever you need me," she whispered to the sleeping halfa before finally succumbing to sleep herself.

Both Danny and Sam slept better that night than they had in years.

* * *

><p>Clockwork mulled over the trials he had effectively subjected Danny to. He regretted their necessity, but they truly <em>were<em> a necessity.

Danny needed to fully understand what his power could do if he abused it, and he needed to understand the corruption that the lure of power created in those who seek it. That had been the point of the Dan incident; and while it would scar the child for the rest of his days, it was a scar he needed to receive and one that he could never afford to forget.

Danny would face many more challenges and trials in his life, however time flowed, but he smiled in satisfaction that his charge had learnt the key to succeeding in the face of these trials. He now fully understood that he had complete support from his friends and more importantly, he knew how to accept that support, even in the face of the most impossible and personal of challenges.

Yes, while Clockwork resented the need for subjecting Danny to so much more pain and suffering, he knew it was for the best in the end.


	4. The Conclusion of the Matter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Danny Phantom' or any of the characters, concepts etc. Those are owned by Butch Hartman/Nickelodeon, I believe. I make no claim to anything in this story, it is a perspective with hypothetical scenarios added in.

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><p><span><strong>Knife's Edge<strong>

**Epilogue: The Conclusion of the Matter**

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><p>As another school day ended and his students rushed out of the classroom, Mr Lancer sat at his desk, ruminating on the strange changes in some of his students over the past two weeks.<p>

He had been dumbfounded when Daniel Fenton had his first week without detention since his sudden shift in Freshman year, not once showing up late or skipping out of class since he returned from a few days of illness. Equally strange was that Ms Gray, normally an excellent student, began turning up late or skipping class entirely, not to mention her almost complete lack of submitted homework; very unlike her normal, hard-working nature. It was almost as though the two students had switched roles.

Daniel had also become far more engaged in class, no longer slipping in and out of consciousness as the lesson went on. And his homework! He never would have imagined that Daniel was capable of such eloquent and intelligent work, but in hindsight there were hints of it is his previously rushed and incomplete assignments that he was occasionally given to grade. In fact, Mr Lancer was put in mind of his older sister, Jasmine, who he had seen coming to pick him up once or twice after school; perhaps she was having a positive influence on him now.

This bizarre shift in Mr Fenton and Ms Gray's attitudes to schoolwork lasted little more than a week before returning to something approximating normality. Daniel was back to showing up late to class, but not as regularly as before and his homework was occasionally incomplete or missing entirely but that was the exception rather than the rule now. And Ms Gray had become more distracted and tired recently, even though she was now participating like before.

He had all but given up on determining the cause of this sudden change and equally sudden reversion in his students. At least, he had until he could observe them some more; perhaps time would reveal the reasons. Until then he would stick to helping them as best he could, with the knowledge he could provide them with.

An interesting side observation he had made, though, was that Mr Fenton and Ms Manson seemed to be closer than ever, which would have been a remarkable feat in-and-of itself, but not only was their friendship closer, there were also mutual hints at something decidedly non-platonic between them now; and it wasn't just the unintentional proximity or any of the other, many things that had led to their well deserved title of 'Lovebirds'. No, this was definitely something else.

Mr Lancer couldn't help but wonder if this had something to do with Daniel's sudden turn-around in class.

If only he knew.

* * *

><p>It had been two weeks since that fateful night and Danny was much more like his old self; not quite the same, but close.<p>

Sam and Tucker had alternated in taking care of him for the first week, either sleeping over at his house or inviting him over to theirs and they never let him out of their sight during school. Sam had also enforced a 'No Ghost Fighting (except in an emergency)' rule, insisting that Danny needed to recover and heal before he could start battling the numerous ghostly invaders of the town again. The exception would have been if a truly powerful ghost like Vlad or Fright Knight showed up, but to the relief of all, none did.

Consequently, Danny Phantom wasn't seen for over a week and the Red Huntress discovered just how many ghosts actually entered Amity Park on a regular basis; Valerie was looking rather ragged by the time Danny finally convinced Sam that he was healed enough to go back to his 'Day Job'. Still, Danny had agreed to take it easy, at least for the next month, letting Valerie and his parents deal with some of the ghosts.

One positive side effect of this was that his academic results had risen sharply during his brief 'holiday'. Indeed, his barely C average had climbed to a B in little over two weeks and if it continued at its current trend, a B+ was a very real possibility; the only thing keeping it below an A being his previously lacklustre results during the rest of the year.

Another benefit was that he had time to train and master his ever-growing power. He had been hesitant to try and tap into the new reserves he had discovered, but once again Sam had convinced him that learning how to control it now was better than having it burst out during a fight when he couldn't control it.

As a result, he was now stronger than ever and most of his fights were becoming clinical affairs rather than the frantic brawls they had been when he first acquired his powers. And while Danny might not have noticed it, Sam, Tucker and Jazz had all taken note of how surgical he had become as he gained more and more experience; none of them were entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but it certainly increased his effectiveness.

Regardless, Danny was in a much better state, both physically and mentally, and the trio were currently hanging out at the Nasty Burger as they had so many times before.

"Ugh, I _still_ can't understand how you guys can eat that stuff," Sam groaned, her complaint in reference to the (allegedly) beef patties in the burgers both boys were eating.

"And _I_ still can't understand how you can eat vegetables," Tucker shivered in revulsion as he spat the name of his most hated food group.

Danny automatically began to tune out the inevitable argument that he had heard more times than he could count. Instead, he focused on Sam.

Thinking back, Danny really had no idea what might have happened to him if she hadn't cared enough to come and speak to him that night and then been stubborn enough to get through to him.

After that night things had been… different between them; not bad just… different. Waking up to find his best friend and secret object of his affection in his bed with her arms wrapped around him may have contributed to that somewhat. Still, there was something more affectionate about her actions towards him now and he wasn't sure if it was new or if he had just never noticed it before, but it gave him hope.

Slipping further into his thoughts, Danny had to marvel at how much she had done for him over the course of their friendship. He couldn't imagine his life without her, in the past or the future. And then there was what she said that night, and the way she had said it…

It made him think/desperately hope that maybe, just maybe, she might possibly share his feelings to some degree.

* * *

><p>Of course, lost in thought as he was, Danny had no idea that he had been staring at Sam with a dreamy expression for nearly three minutes before she noticed it, much to Tucker's amusement. It had worried her at first, but she quickly noticed the tell-tale signs that he was just deep in thought and she found herself studying his relaxed expression, one that was all too rare for her liking.<p>

He might never know it, but she would do anything for him, if he asked it. Whether it was wearing pink (already done), running interference for him at school (check), even giving him advice on how to get another girl's attention (as much as it pained her), she would do it, because she trusted him and cared for him, probably more than she'd ever admit to herself, let alone to him.

And she was willing to give so much more than he would ever ask. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if the shy glances and comforting touches she had been noticing over the last couple of weeks might be something more than the actions of a close friend who was just expressing their thanks…

* * *

><p>Unbeknownst to either of them, Tucker had reclined in his booth and polished of Danny's unfinished meal (he had finished his own long ago). His two best friends had been slipping into these unintentional romantic episodes (which he had inventively labelled 'blushy moments') more and more frequently and they, as the name implied, inevitably led to significant levels of blushing and numerous denials of any sort of mutual attraction. In fact, the whole thing had become so predictable that he had begun archiving footage to create a montage to show them when they finally got together (for there was no doubt in Tucker's, or anyone else's, mind that they <em>would<em> eventually get together).

So, as usual, he positioned his PDA to record the moment, took a final sip of his drink before clearing his throat and uttering the word that practically functioned as a command to begin the show.

*Cough* "Lovebirds" *Cough*

But this time, the result was far different from usual as his two friends blinked out of their mutual stupor to glare at him.

"You know what Tucker? I think you might be right..."

* * *

><p><strong>[AN: And there you have it, the edited and refined version of my first attempt at a Danny Phantom story.<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed the story, and any feedback is gratefully accepted (it all helps, especially critical feedback). And if you enjoyed this fic, then feel free to check out my others, hopefully you'll enjoy them just as much.**

**Thanks again for taking the time to read! /AN]**


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